Songbird
by AssassinOfRome
Summary: Teen!Sherlock. Sherlock is a student at Deependee Boarding School when he meets a certain individual in a musical that shall change his life forever...    Explanation to why Sherlock is reluctant to sing in my previous fic!
1. I dreamed a dream,

1. I dreamed a dream.

"Lights out everyone." shouted the matron.

Every boy in the cream walled dormitory groaned except one. The boy's bedside table was covered in books, a skull and somewhere on the floor was a battered suitcase filled with neatly folded clothes mixed with ones that had been thrown in. A violin was propped against the oak bedpost. The boy in question was lying stretched on top of his bed staring at the ceiling, in a world of his own. He was very skinny, very pale and when he stood he was taller than some of the teachers. He had black curly hair and big grey eyes that, when he glanced at you, looked like he was staring into your soul. It was hard to keep a secret from Sherlock Holmes. When Sherlock heard of the news that it was time to sleep, he just sighed, turned off his light and stared at the bunk above him. But as he lay in the sudden darkness, he knew that something odd was going to happen.

Sherlock dreamed he was walking through whiteness. That was the first thing that confused him. The next thing was that he saw a man he had never met. The man was about the same height as 14-year-old Sherlock with fluffy blond hair and wore a beige jumper. Sherlock stared at him and said,

"I feel as if I know you but I don't know who you are."

"You will," the man replied. He smiled. "When we meet again, you'll be taller. A _lot_ taller."

Then the man began to fade and Sherlock cried

"Don't go! Who are you? WHO ARE YOU?"

But the man was gone and Sherlock jerked up in bed, panting hard. He lay down, feeling a sensation he had never felt before. The man was so calm and so peaceful. So why was Sherlock so scared he was shaking?


	2. Turning Pages

2. Turning Pages

Sherlock sat staring into his cereal the next morning. He didn't talk to anyone but it was rare for him to talk to anyone anyway. Deependee Boarding School housed 300 students for Year 9 and amongst them; Sherlock had two friends, Ellie Castilian and James Carr. James waved his hand in front of Sherlock's face and he broke out of his trance.

"Hello? Earth to Sherlock? What's up?"

"Oh nothing." said Sherlock, shaking his head. He paused. Several seconds later he replied,

"Have you ever had a dream about someone you don't know but feel you should?"

"Err, no. That's weird." Ellie answered

Sherlock sighed. He stood up.

"I'm going to the library."

"God, Sherlock." Ellie moaned "You can't go yet. You haven't eaten anything."

"So? I'm fine."

"Yeah. Let him go Ells. This isn't the first time Sherlock gone without eating for a day." said James.

He ran from the breakfast hall and up the adjacent stairs. He was about to open the doors when the notice board caught his eye. A new notice had been put up. It read

_Deependee School's summer performance this year is The Phantom of the Opera._

_If interested please come to the auditorium this lunch time._

_Drama students expected._

_Thank you for reading,_

_Mrs. Listing, Head of Drama._

It took Sherlock a second to remember he was a drama student and 3 more seconds to make a mental note to go to the auditorium at lunch. Then he walked into the library, as planned.


	3. The Phantom of The Opera

3. The Phantom of the Opera

Sherlock sat backstage, oddly nervous. He was to audition after the next act. The person on the stage sounded really pompous, perfect for the part he was trying to get. Rauol. Miss Reaves beckoned for Sherlock to stand next to her. That meant he could see the act before him. It was a girl. And she was the most beautiful girl Sherlock had ever seen. Dark hair curled elegantly around her shoulders. Big dark eyes with long lashes. Perfect height. He had seen her before somewhere. He was in her class. What was her name? He couldn't remember. The director voiced his question,

"What's your name, who are you trying to play and what are you singing?"

The girl replied,

"Irene Adler, I want to play Christine and I'm singing 'Wishing you were somehow here again'."

"Go for it girl."

When Irene began to sing, Sherlock gasped. Her voice was perfect for Christine. It was high but not breathy. It was strong; he could hear it bounce around the room. When she finished, the room was silent. The director said nothing but nodded at Miss Reaves. She turned to the people backstage and said,

"All people trying out for Christine please leave. We have the girl we need."

Irene beamed. She had a lovely smile. Thanking the director, she bounced off stage and stood on the sidelines. Miss Reaves nudged Sherlock, reminding him that it was his turn on the stage. He suddenly felt sick. He stood on the stage staring at the director.

"What's your name, who are you trying to play and what are you singing?"

"I'm S-s-Sherlock Scott Holmes," he replied stammering "I'm trying for the Phantom and I'm singing ' The Music of the Night '."

"Go on then, Sherlock."

Sherlock stared at the floor, closed his eyes, drew a deep breath and began to sing. A mellow sound floated round the room. He was pleased with the tempo. The finale was coming. He lifted his head and whispered the final lines. The director was looking at him with a curious glint in his eye.

"That was good. Really good. I just want to try something. Irene?" he called

"Yes sir?"

"Do you know the words and tune of the title song? Do you Sherlock?"

"Yes," they said at the same. They glanced at each other and blushed.

"Well sing it."

The music began to play.

"_In sleep he sang to me..."_

"Well," the director boomed "It seems we have our Christine and our Phantom. Well done."

Sherlock never felt as happy in all the 14 years of his life as he did at that moment.


	4. Crazy

4. Crazy

The first Phantom rehearsal was fun. Sherlock watched from the edge of the stage as everyone ran around like lunatics. He was laughing at their antics when Irene came beside him.

"Can I sit here?" she asked

"I don't understand why you'd want to."

"To talk to you, idiot."

"Why?"

"Err, because I have to work with you for at least the next 3 months."

"Oh. Oh God." Sherlock yelped, flinching.

"What? Are you Ok?"

"Yeah. It just...well...I began to read you."

"You read me." Irene asked one eyebrow rose.

"Yeah. It's something that I have been able to do since I could talk. Basically, I take one look at you and know your whole life story. It freaks me out what I can see sometimes."

"Well, what did you see in me?"

"I saw the fact that you have no parents and no other siblings. Your parents divorced before they died. You live with your grandma who has a big ginger tom cat. Also, you live in a cottage in Suffolk."

Irene was silent. Sherlock blushed.

"You got one thing wrong, Sherlock. They weren't divorced when they died. They died in a car crash when they were going to get the papers."

"Oh." Sherlock paused" No offence but isn't that slightly ironic?"

"I guess so. How do you read someone? Is it some sort of magic trick?"

"Not magic. Just deduction. I noticed that you wore not just one but two wedding rings, one on your left hand, one on your right. I also noted that you live with your grandma because the violent shade of red lipstick on your cheek is only for old ladies. The cat was easy, ginger fur on your skirt. The fact that you live in a cottage in Suffolk was harder. You aren't wearing a jumper or blazer so you're used to the cold. In your pocket you have a book-mark from Suffolk Library."

"Wow. That sounds pretty obvious."

"Yeah." Sherlock paused "Irene? Does that make me crazy?"

"I'm not sure Sherlock...I'm not sure."


	5. The Power Of Love

5. Power of Love

**I nicked the basic structure of this chapter (minus characters and the phantom bit) from The King of Shadows, a book about Shakespeare! Also I forgot to say I don't own anything. Not Sherlock. Not the Phantom. And not the songs… sob. No money being made. You can read the story now. Enjoy!**

The next rehearsal was slightly more organized. The director made everyone sit in a circle and he threw a football at you and told you to say your character name then your name then where you com from. The football hit Sherlock's chest as he almost failed to catch it.

"The Phantom, Sherlock Scott Holmes from Horsham, England."

Sherlock passed back the ball and next it pummeled Ellie.

"Ellie Castilian, Meg Giry from Cambridge, England."

She threw the ball back to the director, who scowled.

"Character names first. They're more important then you are."

Everyone giggled. The ball next went to the boy next to Irene.

"Rauol, Godfrey Norton from Bath, England."

The director passed the ball to Irene

"Christine, Irene Adler from Suffolk, England, formerly New Jersey, America."

The director commanded everyone to stand.

"Alrighty then…" said the director "Phantom, Christine, Rauol onstage."

The three of them clambered onto the stage.

"Christine, centre. Phantom, centre stage right. Rauol, centre stage left. "

The actors took their positions.

"Phantom, Christine, kiss. Now."

"What?" Sherlock stated incredulously.

"Kiss Christine."

"Err… no. I'm a sociopa…"

His retaliation was cut short by Irene grabbing his face and pulling their lips together. Sherlock thought she tasted amazing. She tasted of sugar and honey and tea and apple and marshmallow. When they broke apart, they were both gasping for breath. Sherlock shivered slightly, missing her embrace. Godfrey and Ellie both looked furious. But the rest of the cast was wolf-whistling and cheering. The director smiled kindly.

"And we did that because…?" asked Sherlock, drawing out the final word.

"You have chemistry." Replied the director, simply. He glanced at his watch. "And Chemistry. Off to class with all of you."

Everyone groaned Sherlock included.


	6. Vienna

6. Vienna

**I don't own Sherlock yadda yadda yah. Beware long chapter ahead! Also heroic Ellie, sad Sherlock and mean Geography teacher. Also, dialogue from Young Sherlock Holmes the Movie! Might have to change the rating but I think its okay. Enjoy. AOR **

Several weeks after the first rehearsals, Sherlock was exhausted. The rehearsals had started to cut into his private time that was usually packed with homework. Homework slipped into the little time he was usually asleep and the days just merged into each other. James and Ellie were starting to worry. Sherlock hadn't slept or eaten properly for a fortnight. Although Sherlock spent most of his summers wandering around in circles; the journey to Geography class seemed the longest of his life. His arms and legs ached with every step he took. Squeezing his eyes shut was the only way to keep them open.

"Get out your books and supplies." bellowed Mr. Tulley. Starting class was the only time he ever shouted. Most of the lesson he droned on in an almost intelligible voice, expecting the students to take notes. The utter boredom of the lesson was usually only ever broken when Mr. Tulley coughed and wheezed. Smoker. Easy. Sherlock sat down, books on his desk, pen in hand. Drowsiness soon took over and Sherlock laid his head on his arms and closed his eyes.

The first thing Sherlock was conscious of was sobbing. The noise came from a form in the corner.

"Don't cry Mother, please don't cry."

"She wouldn't be crying if you learnt to shut your mouth." A deep voice came from a fireplace that hadn't been there before. No. If she was here, so was he. No.

"You always told me to be just and true. And I was. It wasn't my fault you couldn't keep leave her alone."

"My private and personal lives are mine and mine alone. And you… were spying on me! ME!" the man roared and lunged for him. Sherlock lifted his arms to cover his head. But someone grabbed him from behind. The stranger in the jumper. The dream- friend put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders and his eyes bore into Sherlock's.

"Run." He whispered.

"Who are you?"

But the dream was already beginning to fade.

He woke up screaming. Sobs and gasps burst from his lungs at irregular intervals and tears began to streak down his pale cheeks. Everyone was looking at him, surprised and shocked that Sherlock Holmes had been caught crying in the middle of class! Mr. Tulley stood in front of his desk, face impassive.

"Are you in any pain at all, Mr. Holmes?"

"No sir." Sherlock sobbed in response.

"Then I suppose you know the answer to the question I just posed to the class?"

"No sir. "

"Why not?" growled Mr. Tulley, placing his face nose to nose with the frightened teen. Sherlock shrunk back.

"I was….was asleep sir." He mumbled

Mr. Tulley sighed.

"Detention. Tomorrow. Here. Lunch."

"But you can't!" cried Ellie.

"Why can't I, Miss Castilian?"

"Because the only reason Sherlock was even asleep was because of the stupid amount of homework that you and every other teacher set him! He needs that time to get it all finished for the lessons after lunch. Maybe then he could actually catch up on some of the sleep he's missed for the last two weeks! "

"And why, pray tell me; has Mr. Holmes been doing his homework when he should be sleeping?"

"Because he's been rehearsing for the school play. He's the Phantom. Do you know how many lines he has? Didn't think so."

"So you suggest that I don't give Mr. Holmes a detention?"

"Yes."

But Mr. Tulley never could have predicted the uproar of approval to Ellie's suggestion by every student in the class. He backed down as the bell rang.

"Holmes!" he bellowed. "I shall send messages to your next teacher saying that you will not be in class because I have given you leave."

"Thank you sir." Replied Sherlock, smiling at Ellie in gratitude.


	7. Don't stop me now

**This is where it starts to get interesting. Well at least for me because I'm writing it. No money being made and I don't own any of the following characters.**

**Sherlock Holmes, Godfrey Norton, Mr. Tulley (Young Sherlock Holmes)**

**John Watson, Christine, Mrs Reeves (My P.E teacher)**

**Irene Adler, The Phantom, Mycroft Holmes**

**Enjoy! Also a cookie for anyone who can name all the artist who made all the songs that are the chapters! AOR**

7. Don't stop me now

Sherlock was having the time of his life. When he could stay awake, he was acting which he loved because he could identify with the part and he got to kiss Irene. This in itself had advantages. Godfrey Norton was Irene's boyfriend and for no reason, Sherlock had taken an instant dislike to the actor of Rauol. Their rivalry played itself on the stage and it gave Sherlock some satisfaction to see Godfrey irritated. Also the director thought they were acting, which they were in some instances, and praised them. The director had heard about Sherlock falling asleep in class and excused the whole cast from homework. Singing the songs was a breeze and everyone was excited. Everyone was discussing who was coming to see them act. Irene's grandma was coming and Godfrey's parents had tickets. When Ellie asked who was coming to watch him, Sherlock remembered he hadn't even told Mycroft that he was in the play!

He hastily pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled,

_Dear Mycroft,_

_Everything at school is fine. These last 2 months have been fantastic. I have been given the part as The Phantom in our school play, The Phantom of Opera. Enclosed in the envelope that this letter came in is a ticket for you. I hope you can make it. The date and time is on the ticket._

_From your brother_

_Sherlock_

_Sherlock went to the school office, purchased a ticket ,an envelope and a stamp, scribbled Mycroft's address onto the envelope then gave the receptionist the sealed envelope for posting. But as he handed the letter over, he felt a strange sense of dread settle over him, as if the letter was the cause of some unforeseen woe that was due to befall him soon. But Sherlock had never let his heart rule his head and he wandered away from the office calm and controlled._


	8. Take a bow

**OMG! Where have I been with this story? I'm so sorry this hasn't been updated before now. How could I have forgotten about itty-bitty Sherlock (Sherlock glares at me so I stop looking stupid)? This is the night of the performance and the second last chapter…Enjoy. Reviews taste like cupcakes.**

Take a bow

Sherlock waited in the wings, twisting his porcelain mask in his hands. It was the night of the performance and he was uneasy. The cast had performed it the previous day without fault to the governors but tonight was different. Something felt wrong. The air to the hall seemed mysterious. Sherlock hoped Mycroft had got his letter with the ticket. Seeing his brother would stop him being on edge. But the person that came up behind Sherlock too.

"Hello honey. Alright?"

Sherlock turned to look at Irene and gave his answer.

"Yeah."

"You look a little tense." Irene began to massage his shoulders. Sherlock's calm demeanour almost shattered. Her touch was soft and longed for. She looked beautiful in a deep red satin dress. He stiffened. Irene seemed to notice this and stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Ok."

She reached up and pecked Sherlock on the cheek. This time he did melt but only on the inside.

"What was that for?"

She smiled at him fondly. "Luck" was the whispered reply. Then, all too soon, she dashed away into the arms of Godfrey who was dressed as Rauol. Sherlock had come to hate the couple and expressed his anger through the Phantom. He turned, long black cape swishing against his calves. The music had begun to play, signalling the beginning of the show. He placed the mask carefully onto his face and tied it at the back of his head.

The Game was Afoot.

…..

The end of the performance was coming. Sherlock (as the Phantom) had just let Irene/ Christine run off and live with her boyfriend, instead of staying where she belonged. With him. He was surprised at how this mirrored his own life, how he was left longing in the shadows while she ran away, taking all her spirit with her. She had just kissed him passionately on the lips when a loud voice rang through the hall.

"Get the hell off her, you douche-bag!"

Sherlock and Irene broke apart and saw a large figure clambering onto the stage. He was tall and fat with brown hair plastered to his scalp. In his hand was a whisky bottle and, even though the pair were a good metre away from him, his breath smelt of liquor. _Oh no…_

"Cant you see she's a taken woman, Sherlock?" he bellowed, slurring slightly. "Or are you too stupid? She has a boyfriend. She doesn't need you."

"No Father. It's not like that."

Sherlock father roared and held his son up by the hair. The mask fell off his face and onto the floor. It shattered into a million pieces. The audience was silent. Irene ran into Godfrey's arms.

"Let me go. Please. This isn't real. It's acting. Get off!" Sherlock yelped.

"Sorry if I don't believe you." His father snarled into his face. "Why can't you be like Mycroft? Solid… dependable… realistic? Nooo you have to be strange and reckless and dangerous. Maybe that's why you drove your mother away." He dropped Sherlock onto the ground. Everyone heard something snap in the teen's wrist. He hissed in pain.

"Me? I drove her away? It wasn't me, it was you. You and your affair with that stupid whore, Candy!"

"You didn't have to tell her. My private life and my personal life are mine and mine alone! You were an intruder! I thought I COULD TRUST YOU!"

"I didn't expect to find you slobbering over her like an ice lolly. I didn't want to tell her. It broke her heart. But I had to. It wasn't fair. She deserves someone better than a fat, spoilt coward who can't even face his own wife and sons."

Sherlock's father flew at the floored teen punching and kicking. The audience gasped. Two men, one in a brown overcoat; the other with a shaved haircut, grabbed Sherlock's enraged father and physically dragged him off the boy. The teen was bleeding and sobbing on the floor. The audience was chaotic. People were grabbing their children, running and phoning for an ambulance. Irene ran over to Sherlock and grabbed his unbroken wrist.

"Sherlock? Sherlock? Stay with me, Sherlock. Sherlock? SHERLOCK?"

Darkness claimed Sherlock and he went with it willingly.


	9. Defying Gravity

**Hey peeps! Thanks for the reviews; there really helpful! This is the final frontier (sorry chapter) with a mini musical crossover but only in the title! If you want more Irene, read Wedding Bells; she's in it quite a lot. The Big Brother has come. Everybody say MYCROFT! Enjoy! **

9. Defying Gravity

Mycroft sat by his brother's beside. He hadn't left him for more than a minute since he had been put in a private room. Sherlock was sleeping now but he would wake soon and notice that he had broken several ribs, a shattered wrist, severe bruising on his stomach and concussion. The teen tossed in his sleep, worrying his elder sibling. It hadn't been long since Mummy left and he already lost Charlotte to Leukaemia several months before. With such an unstable father, Mycroft was clinging to the little family he had left. Smoothing Sherlock's inky black curls away from his pale skeletal face, he whispered comforting words into his ear. This did not have the desired affect as it woke Sherlock instead of lulling him back to sleep.

"Mycroft?" whispered Sherlock, voice weak and gravelly, nothing like his usually smooth tone. "Is that you?"

"Yes. I'm here." Mycroft replied softly, gripping his brother's hand, trying hard not to dislodge the IV drip in his skin.

"I had a dream about you. We were in the cherry tree in the garden. And he was there. My dream friend. He helped me escape Father."

Mycroft shushed his brother.

"Why am I here? Why am I in hospital? You know the drugs mess up my thinking."

"You're hurt. Father attacked you on the stage."

"Why weren't you there? I sent you a ticket. So you could stop him. I knew something would happen. Why didn't you come?"

"I'm so sorry."

"Your work was more important." Sherlock turned away, grey eyes glistening with tears.

"No, Sherlock. That would never happen…" Mycroft trailed off.

"But it did, didn't it? You gave Father the ticket so you didn't have to bother with me! I didn't want him there. He doesn't understand! No-one understands! You all just pretend to. No, Mycroft let me go." Sherlock cried when his brother grabbed onto his wrist when he tried to stand. He jerked away and pulled the IV out of his hand. He ran from the clean white room, down the corridor and collapsed to the floor.

"Sherlock. Why must you be such a rebel?"

Sherlock curled up into a ball and covered his ears.

"You sound just like Father! Leave me alone!" the broken spirit that used to be Mycroft's little brother began to sob.

Sherlock never really was the same after that play. He was still Sherlock but he placed barriers between himself and his feelings. He didn't trust Mycroft as much and he never sang another note. Until he met John. He recognised the man from his dreams but he didn't tell this to the doctor, fearing that he wouldn't understand. When John came, Sherlock re-opened his feelings. He trusted Mycroft and even better, he began to sing again. John was Sherlock's friend, his only friend but they went well together. John helped Sherlock become one of the things he had always been; a songbird.

_Fin_


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